


A Free Period

by Cosmicboredom



Series: Freedom [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Harry Potter is a Tease, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Top Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25304254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmicboredom/pseuds/Cosmicboredom
Summary: “When the apocalypse does come, I will rebuild our city with my tongue. I will suck this world’s ashes from your fingers. I will refuse to let the fires of this hell be the only thing that makes us sweat. When the apocalypse comes, so will we.” — “The Bones Below” by Sierra DeMulder
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: Freedom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037289
Comments: 11
Kudos: 257





	A Free Period

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授权翻译】落魄不羁的时候](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25866274) by [BlackTea39](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackTea39/pseuds/BlackTea39)



Harry chose a period where he knew Snape was free, knew the man would be alone because of the stress the students caused. Snape would be the most vulnerable to him; actually, it was the most vulnerable the man ever was. Besides sleeping, but then he was the most protected by the wards.

He brought the invisibility cloak, knowing full well that being seen in the dungeons meant that he had to fight a thousand Slytherins to get through. Slipping it on was easy when all the other halls were empty, everyone who had a free period wanted to spend it in the last rays of summer.

Then he made his way to Snape's office, where the man would no doubt be reading or some other boring activity that would drive Harry mad.

It was really too easy. It was like the castle knew his intent, approved, and was aiding his descent.

Harry was finally at the door, and he didn't knock. He just pulled it open a bit and slipped through. No one else would've been able to get away with it, no one else had become friendly with Snape's wards. And Harry knew that there would be insults, that he was entirely too much like his father, but he frankly didn't care.

Snape had become nothing short of an obsession for him.

The office looked the same as always. No personal effects, no photographs on the walls, and no indication that Snape found _anything_ interesting. It was polarizing in Harry's mind. He thought every teacher had an office exactly like, or at least similar to, Umbridge's office, which had previously been Mad-Eye Moody's office, and before that, it was Remus Lupin's, and before that…. In other words, Harry had only really ever seen the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, and each occupant had been gregarious with themselves, displaying what they wanted others to see. Snape had no need for anything like that.

If you wouldn't like him for who he was, then he had no time for you. He was a man of many facets that couldn't be displayed so easily, and that's what made Harry so damned intrigued.

And the man was, as predicted, reading at his desk. Not essays, but a novel the likes of which Harry knew he would never finish. Those intensely black eyes fixed on the lines, never wavering even though Harry had not been quiet in his entry. It must have been a good read. A heavy sigh, through flared nostrils, rang through the silence.

Snape's mouth moved, sneered. Interesting, to Harry at least, that the man found issues with even the most acclaimed authors.

Harry stared; in a natural setting, Snape no longer looked so severe. Those angular features softened somehow, maybe Snape wasn't _trying_ to look terrifying. Harry wondered what else Snape had been trying to hide.

He took one step, and Snape's hand moved.

Adrenaline flooded his system, his heart beat loud against his sternum. Had he been careless? Did Snape always know when he was skulking about?

No, Snape had reached for his wand and waved it in the direction of a door. Clangs and running water covered Harry's footsteps as he closed in on the desk, Snape was making tea. It was such a shameless display of power that Harry felt something sensual rise in his chest as if he were trying to steal that power.

"Are you going to stay under that cloak?" Snape asked, and Harry could hardly believe that he was being addressed at all. "Or is there something I can help you with?"

Could Snape _see_ through his cloak? Was it, in fact, a cheap fake that ended up wearing off at this exact moment? He felt frozen, pinned. How did Snape know he was there?

"Your cologne, Mr. Potter. It follows you ubiquitously and it is very signature, I must admit." Snape continued coolly.

Harry felt something cold slide down into his belly, the man knew what kind of cologne he wore? It was a heady sensation and it took over him.

Suddenly he was on his knees, suspended between the older wizard's thighs, and Snape looked ready to explode with rage. How he had gotten this far, he would never remember, but he wasn't going to stop now that he was here. His hands were fast, working at the many layers of Snape's robes then the belt. Snape hardly had time to say 'no'.

Harry heard the tea kettle sit atop the stove, and it made him jump. The cloak slid back and he couldn't be bothered to try for anonymity anymore, he just pushed on head-first.

Then, finally, his fingers made contact with skin.

Snape was warm, but cold as if he didn't retain as much heat as a normal person. The skin here, just above the waistband and below the navel, was bare. Unmarred. Harry felt Snape's belly flinch as he dived in to suck and bite his mark into the flesh. Snape said nothing, even as Harry pulled his trousers down, releasing the hard length of Snape's cock from the confines of his boxers. When it rested against his cheek, he turned his attention away to lavish it with his tongue. Harry chanced a glance upward, as he brought his tongue up to the head, and Snape's smoldering gaze gave him the courage to take the flesh into his mouth.

Finally, _finally_ , Snape let out a low hiss. An exhalation between clenched teeth. But Harry would take it at face value.

He pushed the cock as far as it would go and choked on it. But he didn't pull away. He was too determined, too driven, to back down and admit defeat. Snape made a small noise, almost as if he had choked as well, and Harry felt a sense of pride. _He_ had made the stoic man buckle. He continued on, eager to pull the man apart for half a minute, relishing the feel of Snape's cock on his tongue.

A shaking hand pushed at his shoulder, but he shook his head and dived in for more. He wanted Snape to lose control, to take matters into his own hands, and fuck Harry's mouth until he was begging to stop. The hand ended up clenched in his shirt, pulling him close as he pulled away.

He finally had to breathe, but he replaced his mouth with a slick hand.

"Don't give me detention." He breathed, and Snape's eyes burned into his as if he were asking for the celebrity-status he innately never deserved.

Snape moved like lightning, or a snake attacking; quick, precise, devastating. But then a thumb rubbed over Harry's bottom lip, and a shock of heat ran through him. Unabashedly, he let out a low moan, not enough to instigate, but enough to incite. And then he closed his teeth on the appendage, and Snape inhaled sharply at his boldness.

He was right; if he hadn't taken the first step, Snape would have let him die without this.

Fingers dug into his hair as he dived again, and Harry wove his left arm under Snape's knee, pushing that leg up as he sat up to handle the pace the man wanted. His other hand dug into the layers of clothes that Snape _always_ wore, exploring those hidden depths by feel alone. Snape growled his approval and tilted his hips so his cock slid down Harry's throat with ease, fingers cradling the back of his head. Even now, with all the attention on him, Snape was careful of Harry and what he could take. But Harry knew that Snape had no idea what he could _do._

He closed his eyes and pushed further down until his nose was touching that pristine skin. Those fingers clenched into a fist in his hair, trying to pull him away again, but he steadfastly stayed.

"Potter," Snape growled. All of his muscles were taut as if he were balancing precariously on the edge of a knife. Harry hummed his answer, pulling back and pushing farther and farther until his face was buried in Snape's skin. His wandering fingers found a nipple and he pulled and rubbed on it, and Snape groaned out loud before letting out a half-yell as seed filled Harry's throat.

The rest of the world seeped back into his senses; the kettle was wailing for relief, the fire crackled ominously behind him. He sat back and released Snape's softening cock from his mouth, cleaning away any evidence as he pulled away.

Snape looked boneless, sprawled in his chair like some ancient emperor satisfied with the year's harvest, and barely moved except to breathe. Harry redid the buttons as best as he could and got up to make the Professor some tea. When he returned to the room, Snape was much more aware and glaring. "Come here," Snape growled, his tone notably different now. Harry actually feared he had overstepped a boundary, that he had been wrong, and Snape saw this as a violation rather than a confession. He obeyed anyway and set the tea down before Snape could so much as argue. "Open your mouth."

It was an odd request, but Harry did it. It was the least he could do for this transgression.

"You swallowed it all?" Snape sounded surprised.

"I-I know that physical fluids can be used in certain spells and- and potions…." Harry said. He wasn't afraid, but he was apprehensive. His family had used the veil of calm to lure him in before, and he was no stranger to the switch from calm to threatening. "I don't want you to think I'm going to use it."

Snape's eyes gleamed, and Harry was sure this was it. He would be thrown out, humiliated, and expelled for fraternizing with his superior. "So you _do_ learn." Snape thought out loud.

"You're- you're not mad?"

"No." Snape murmured. "Come here." And Snape patted his lap. Harry immediately got back down on his knees and placed his hands on either thigh. "Take off your shirt." Harry scrambled to comply, his blood boiled with excitement. Was this what it was like? To yearn for another person to touch him?

Snape frowned at whatever he saw on Harry's body. "You're so young, Potter," Snape said this as if it were a bane.

"I know what I want, Snape."

A hand closed around his throat. "Do you?" It was hissed into his ear. "What you want is to be violated? Used like some two-bit whore? Split open on a cock while you beg, covered in spunk, and shaking as some _animal_ takes you and twists you into something unpleasant and cock-hungry? Is _that_ what you want, Potter? Hmm?" Harry gasped but didn't pull away. Didn't fight. Everything was a lesson, and he was learning how to be patient. Snape let up, and he drew in the air while he could. "Or are you satisfied enough with what you'll get?"

He met Snape's eyes, "I want whatever you'll give me, sir." He breathed, and he could feel his own Adam's apple press against his trachea with every word.

"Not a child then," Snape muttered. "Good. Sit here." The man tapped the top of his desk, and as Harry got up and sat in the exact spot he was told, Snape waved his wand a few times. No doubt adding silencing and locking charms to his door. If Harry could get in, who was to say someone else couldn't? Harry let that sink in. If someone- like Dumbledore- were to happen upon them like this, there could be consequences. But his friends knew what he was doing, knew that he'd come here for one reason or another and that Snape would do one of two things to him.

And hexing did not seem to be the answer this time.

"Take off your pants, Potter." Snape delegated, sounding like his teacher again. He leaned forward and brought Snape's mouth to his own.

"It's just Harry." He said against Snape's lips.

It seemed to loosen something in Snape, something _starving_ and primal. Snape kissed like he fought, careful and precise, but still somehow vicious. There was biting and force, and something bittersweet. Harry pulled back, dizzy from the best snog of his life. Snape stood and leaned into him, focusing that blazing attention on his neck and shoulders. Long fingers yanked his pants down and he had to lift himself to get them off completely. His bare ass touched the cold desk and he let out a small whimper that had Snape returning to his mouth. It was obvious, any noises he made belonged to Snape, and the older wizard would swallow it all if given half the chance.

"So wrong," Snape muttered, but Harry shook his head. If it was wrong, why did it feel so perfect?

A hand, _not his own_ , fell between his legs. Stroking and squeezing his prick as it leaked onto his belly. He let out what was bubbling in his chest, moans, whimpers, half-bitten grunts, and sighs. Snape wanted it, and that was enough to make him _want_ to give what he could. The smile he was rewarded with was worth it, but then Snape was snogging him again. And Harry felt the hand dip lower. "Yes," he groaned and Snape's fingers slipped even lower, barely inside him but touching. Harry felt the heat in him surge and it liquified him, his body rolled into the hand and Snape pushed inside him. "Ah!"

"This is what it's like," Snape growled, that crooked nose nudged his jaw and his head fell back. The words were whispered into his throat, and a second finger entered him. "This is what I'm going to do to you."

He could do nothing but nod, it was a strange sensation to have someone else finger him. He’d experimented on his own before, but Snape’s hand was so much bigger and he felt like he was splitting in half already. Snape moved faster, spreading him open and pushing his legs apart. Harry gripped the edge of the desk as Snape toyed with his prostate, then pulled his fingers out completely. He heard the shriek of a zipper, and the wand was in Snape’s hand again. Harry caught a whispered word and the pull of a drawer, and then he was wet. Completely soaked inside and out, and Snape was staring at him, waiting for something.

Harry wriggled his hips, and whatever was lubricating him leaked onto his backside and slid down to the desk. He was mortified, it was messy and sticky and Harry thought Snape would never talk to him again once he found out.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Snape asked, even as he ran his fingers through the wetness. Harry felt his blush deepen, maybe it even spread, because, damn, that was embarrassing. And Snape was using it to jack off! There was _no_ way, in _any_ possible world, that this wasn’t indescribably odd, and bordering on pornographic.

“... Hot.” He gasped when he realized Snape was waiting for an answer.

“The mighty Harry Potter reduced to whimpers and whispers…” Snape’s smirk was almost too indulgent, but Harry couldn’t do anything about it, the man had won. “I should have done something similar years ago, maybe you’d have learned _something_ in my classes.”

Harry shook his head. “No matter what you do, you’re too hot to pay attention to much else.” He breathed out a laugh, but it sounded just as unfulfilling as anything else he’d said since Snape told him to sit on the desk.

“Careful, Mr. Potter. Lies are punishable in these walls.” Snape growled.

“I'm not lying,” Harry said sharply.

“Seems you’ve found your voice again,” Snape grunted and pushed Harry’s thighs up towards his chest, arms bracketed him so he couldn’t escape. He reached up and dug his fingers into Snape’s hair, tugging and pulling the older wizard closer. Merlin, he would have been content just to stare into those mysterious, black mirrors. But Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry wanted him to _shut up._

He was less adept at kissing. Blowjobs were like handshakes in the dorm, everyone got one, everyone gave them. Harry had given far more blowjobs than actually sat down and had a good snog, but Snape was ridiculously good. And the older wizard didn’t hold back either.

Snape’s body shifted against him, putting the head of the man’s prick right up against his hole and even adding a bit of pressure. He felt his body resist the intrusion and he forced himself to relax, rolling into the discomfort. Snape stood straight as he pushed harder against him, forcing his way into Harry like some sort of virus; one that made his skin prickle, took away his breath, and punched a hole right through his gut. It was the most intoxicated he ever felt, and he couldn’t fight it off as he could with magic. There was burning and relief, and then something that was like ice sliding down his spine. Snape stopped at some point, and Harry didn’t know why, but it could have been that his grip was tight on Snape’s upper arm. He relaxed, hands first, until he was boneless atop the desk. 

“Fuck, you’re still tight.” He heard Snape growl. A shiver ran down his spine and made him clench up, and Snape’s back bowed with the aftershocks. “God, damn you, brat.” Snape cursed with an ugly sneer. “Nothing between us will ever be the same again.”

Harry’s mouth was too dry to form a response, but Snape was right. There was probably some other meaning to it, though, one that Harry wasn’t able to see. Snape’s fingers dug into Harry’s thighs as he used them as leverage to start thrusting into Harry’s body. It was irregular at first, and Harry felt like doing some work to help Snape find a rhythm that worked for them both. And just when he’d decided that _that_ was exactly what he was going to do, a white-hot shock went through his body.

“There,” Snape breathed as if he was finding the right wand movement for a particularly complicated spell. He let go of Harry’s legs and leaned forward onto his elbows, hovering just inches above Harry’s face. Then he set a pace that was bruising, and Harry felt like pulling away. Because Snape was abusing that wonderful feeling, with wondrously sinful results. Each thrust slammed right into his prostate, making his legs shake. Snape’s arms snaked under his shoulders and held him in place, pulled him into the movements, forced his hips to roll just the right way to maximize the effect. “Like this…” was whispered into his clavicle and his belly burned with arousal at the sound of it. “Yes. Good boy.” Harry couldn’t help the shiver that went through him at the implication of those words. His whole body responded by stiffening and pushing against Snape’s hips with force.

Snape pulled back a little to examine him, but Harry was shaking and twitching with the electricity coursing through him. “You came?” Snape asked, sounding _so_ surprised that Harry would have found it comical in any other setting.

“Y-yeah. Is- is that a _bad_ thing?” He wondered, nervous. And Snape surged forward- Harry was damn _sure_ he would get a clapping. No blow came, but Snape was kissing him. _Without_ provocation from him, without restraint.

“On your knees again,” Snape ordered, breathlessly, pulling out and away from Harry. Who complied easily, even though the floor was made of stone, and froze his skin. “Look up at me.” Harry’s eyes met the slicked cock before they met Snape’s face, it was unclear what he was supposed to do next. But Snape was a man of action, gripping Harry by the hair at the back of his skull and tilting his face upward. Harry caught on quickly, sticking his tongue out and resting it against the tip of Snape’s cock.

Snape’s face remained stoic as he fisted his cock over Harry’s tongue, but those eyes burned bright. Harry felt like he was being given a facet of Snape that no one had ever seen before. Then Snape’s eyes closed, and a single stripe of warm, white cum shot into the roof of Harry's mouth and dripped across his tongue. “Fuck, Mr. Potter. You look like a natural whore.” Snape said, almost all business now, except for the look he was giving Harry. Snape’s eyes said a million words that remained silent.

“Only for you.” Harry felt the need to remind the older wizard. He would no longer participate in school-boy antics, not when he had the real deal standing right in front of him.

Even Snape's sneer couldn't hide how pleased he looked at the prospect. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Potter.” Harry shook his head, but there was no way Snape would believe him.

“Get dressed, you have a class to attend in fifteen minutes,” Snape said, he was already prim and proper, and Harry wondered if magic had been behind it. Harry stood on his shaky legs, found his clothes on the desk chair, and took his trousers. He didn’t remember being so neat, but his clothes were folded, and warm.

“Professor?” He wondered aloud, and a hand slapped his asscheeks. His yelp echoed in the dungeon.

“Calling me Professor is for school,” Snape growled. “In private, I prefer to be called by my name.”

Harry felt electricity course through him again, but it was some sort of watered-down version of orgasm. “S-snape, I-” Another swat across his rear made him recant. “Severus!” He said with indignation in his voice.

“That’s better, Harry.” Snape purred into his hair. The hand that had abused him was now gently rubbing the hurt away. “You had a question?”

Harry couldn’t think straight, he had thought Snape was too callous to allow him to do anything. Especially since Harry had come here without permission. He shook his head, he couldn’t remember what his question was. Snape seemed to deflate behind him. “Then, you should go before your friends realize you are missing.”

Harry turned around; Snape _sounded_ hurt, but his face was stone again, nothing was coming through. Harry understood too well what Severus was hearing from him.

“Severus, will I be allowed to come back?” He asked.

Snape looked surprised by the question as if it hadn’t been an issue that he was there at all. “I suppose so. There are things to consider; Dumbledore, and the war. And how others would see it.”

“I don’t think I care about any of that,” Harry muttered, knowing he sounded petulant. But it got a chuckle out of Snape.

“No, but it is in our best interest to maintain appearances. You are only fifteen, Harry, I would lose my job.”

“Say it's because I apologized, that it’s Occlumency lessons. We both know I didn’t _mean_ to go into your pensieve, it can work to our advantage.”

Snape gave him a look, one that Harry met confidently because if Snape _was_ using Legilimency then he had nothing to hide. “You sound like a Slytherin. Is this how you come up with your _brilliant_ schemes and manage to worm your way out of trouble?” The older wizard asked him.

Harry couldn’t help himself, his smile increased until it hurt. Snape had called him _brilliant._ “Well, it isn’t because I’m nobly thinking of how best to annoy you. That’s just happy collateral.”

Snape shook his head. “Get to class. God forbid you to learn anything else. I will consider your proposal, Harry, but I don’t think anyone would believe I agreed to try again. Not after the way we parted.”

“Just make me sound extra stupid, and it’ll be fine. It’s what he expects you to say, so play him.” Harry reached out to straighten Snape’s robes, and Snape caught his hand.

“That is the most devious thing you could ever say, Potter. Be careful of it, lying isn’t as easy as you think.” Snape took Harry’s hand and brushed his lips against the knuckles. It was erotic and endearing at the same time. “Go, before I call off all our classes today,” Snape said, clearing his throat and releasing him.

Harry dressed as quickly as he possibly could, tied his laces tight so he could make the run through the dungeons. Before he threw on the Invisibility Cloak, he looked back to find Snape sitting at his desk. As if nothing had happened at all. He left without much noise and looked around… 

Before running all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Careful to miss the trick step at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, and any prefects that might be lurking in the hallways. He even made it up to the dorm room without having engaged any of his friends into asking where he’d been all period. Snape said class was in fifteen minutes, and he’d wasted much of it with talk. He had to make it to Potions without being late again. Otherwise, Snape would give him detention and he would be walking funny the next day for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I, I really dunno what to say about this. I'll be honest, I woke up after a long night and this was the first thing I saw when I looked at my phone.


End file.
